


Retreat

by whiteroses77



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Smallville
Genre: Accidents, Day At The Beach, Desire, Difficult Decisions, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friendship/Love, M/M, Red Kryptonite, Romance, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:40:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26915278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiteroses77/pseuds/whiteroses77
Summary: Things come to a head for Clark and Bruce, after an accident during a mission causes their desires to be revealed, and they have to choose between what they want or make a defensive retreat.
Relationships: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 12
Kudos: 143





	Retreat

TITLE: RETREAT  
PAIRING: CLARK KENT/BRUCE WAYNE  
AUTHOR: WHITEROSES77  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the stories not the characters.  
WORD COUNT: 14,319  
SUMMARY: Things come to a head for Clark and Bruce, after an accident during a mission causes their desires to be revealed, and they have to choose between what they want or make a defensive retreat.

~Chapter 1~

A breeze ruffled Bruce Wayne’s dark hair as he stood on the deck of the out of the way beach house. Wearing dark blue jeans and a navy blue t-shirt, he gazed out across the ocean and watched the sunrise. He hadn’t been to sleep yet and he was beginning to feel the tiredness tugging at him. After the mission last night, he’d come straight here, only leaving word with Alfred. To come to a place nobody expected him to be.

In the distance, the stretch of blue water seemed to blaze red for a second, and then it mellowed into gold. He’d seen that startling change of colour before, but it hadn’t been dawn on the ocean. It had been last night, in a wrecked laboratory in Metropolis. 

Bruce closed his eyes in remembrance. 

Recruited by someone in Gotham’s sister city, Poison Ivy had been experimenting it seemed. It wasn’t until it was too late that the Justice League had found out that Ivy had discovered the pros of using meteor rocks for her cultivating. For the assault on the lab, Batman and Superman had paired up as usual. Over the last couple of years it had become apparent that they worked well together; they complemented each other. It was true in the field, and it was true for their friendship too.

Both at the same time, Batman and Superman entered the double doors on the furthermost side of the building. In the sterile lab there were racks of chemicals lining the walls, a stainless steel table in the middle of the room, and hydroponic equipment. It looked like any other room that they’d searched until Superman had informed him about the hidden door. 

The Dark Knight’s lip curled at the corner as he said sardonically, “Did I ever tell you why I enjoy working with you?”

Since they’d met each other, he’d found himself becoming someone else in the Kryptonian hero’s company; no not someone else, the person he could’ve been. He didn’t jest with anyone else. 

And Clark had always understood that.

His friend shot him a bright smile, and teased with a flutter of his eyelashes, “It wouldn’t be my amazing eyes would it?” 

Bruce fought the snigger and said dryly, “It could be your sense of humour, or it could be your big strong arms.”

Superman rolled his eyes, but catching his drift, he went to the hidden door and pulled it off its hinges. 

It happened all at once. 

The green Kryptonite behind the door glowed in his presence, and Superman stumbled. The trip wire on the door set off a small explosion, and somehow Batman managed to knock his teammate out the way of the blast.

Debris covered the room, and something gaseous pervaded the air. Batman coughed as he couldn’t help but inhale the reddish mist. He shook himself, and pushed against Superman’s hard body and the floor both to get to his feet. 

In agony, his teammate stayed on the floor gasping and gritting his teeth trying to bare the pain of the radiation. The fragments of green poison were glowing around him. Batman reached down and grasped his teammate saying, “Come on, Clark, I’ve got to get you out of here.”

To begin with, he dragged Superman upright to his knees. Seeing his dark head bowed in front of him, Batman came to a sudden halt, he gazed down at his friend. Something trickled through him, an impulse, a feeling from somewhere deep inside him, but whatever it was, it was coming up to the surface real fast. 

With his gloved hands, he cupped Superman’s head and made him raise his face and look up at him. Glassy eyes gazed up at him, sweat pearled on his brow, and full panting lips opened enticingly. With bright dilated eyes, Batman just stared down greedily, taking all that spectacle in. 

There was pain and confusion in his friend’s eyes, and Superman asked weakly, “Bruce?”

With an earthy rasp, he replied, “You look so right down there, do you know that, Clark?”

His friend’s brow creased and slowly his gaze drifted down to the crotch of the Batsuit. In response, Batman's hands guided him closer. “Oh Clark, you know what I want you to do down there, don’t you?”

Superman blinked and then with dawning clarity fighting back against the pain, his gaze returned to Batman’s eyes. “Bruce, something’s happened to you.” He winced and began to crumple up with the enduring pain. He implored, “Please help me.”

He stared down at him for a long moment, and then his gaze ticked back to the glowing poison. He took a heavy breath, and he fought the desire to keep seeing his teammate looking up at him like that. He remembered it was pain that Superman was feeling and not passion. He dragged his friend up, and they stumbled across to the other side of the room and landed in a heap. 

Superman collapsed into Batman’s arms and as the agony left his body, he took deep breaths for a minute. Batman looked across the room and saw the green glow fade now that Superman was away from it. He ran his gloved hand through Superman’s hair comfortingly. “Are you okay, Clark?” he asked.

His friend nodded, and then looked up into his face, “I’ll be alright in a minute.” he half smiled with the sweat already drying on his pretty face, “You had me worried there for a second, I didn’t know what you were thinking. I was scared you weren’t going to help me.”

He continued caressing that thick lustrous black hair. “Baby, I wouldn’t let anything hurt you.”

Superman frowned up at him. “Baby…?” he questioned.

With his gloved fingers, he caressed his friend’s soft lips and then he dipped down and kissed that tantalizing mouth. He felt stillness against his lips and then a shudder go through his friend’s body, and then Superman’s lips opened under his. 

Batman moaned as their lips played over each other’s slowly but greedily again and again. He hissed as Superman gently bit his bottom lip.

He pulled back and stared down at his friend. When Superman opened his eyes, he saw the aquamarine of his irises turn to sparkling red and then the red give way to warm gold. Bruce swallowed hard, “Clark?”

A knowing grin curled his full lips, as he asked wryly, “Yes, Baby?”

He tensed a little, and he winced, “Your eyes, what’s happened to you?”

Superman leered, “I know what’s happened to me, it’s what’s happened to you that’s the surprise.”

Batman dragged himself away and clamoured to his feet. 

With a gleam in his eyes, Superman got to his knees, but that was all. Batman stared down at him and felt that desire from before again. Knowing his friend had been affected by something, he growled, “Get up.”

His friend’s lips pulled back into a smug smile. “I thought you said you liked me down here?”

In response, Batman breathed through his nose noisily.

Superman kept eye contact, as he leaned forward and with a wide tongue he licked the Batsuit where it covered his crotch. Batman’s hands cupped his teammate’s head, meaning to push him away, however he couldn’t quite bring himself to do it.

Superman smiled up at him and licked his own full lips tauntingly slowly. His teammate said with a teasing lilt, “You like that don’t you; I can see it in your oh so stoic eyes.”

He didn’t reply to the question, couldn’t right now, sternly he ordered again, “Get up.”

Clark sighed noisily, “Oh Bruce.” and then nonchalantly got up off his knees. He met him face to face. His gorgeous face glowed with impishness as he peered at him, “And I thought we were finally going to have some fun together.”

At the taunt, Batman reached out suddenly, and grasped a handful of hair at Superman’s nape, and he whispered leeringly, “Fun… I don’t want to have fun with you; what I want is you gasping for breath as you open up for me.”

Excitement glinted in Superman’s untamed eyes, and he licked his own teeth. Gravelly, he said, “Yes, that sounds like fun to me, Baby.”

Surprised, Batman leaned in, a breath away from his plush lips, he asked, “You want it? I assumed you’d be…”

Superman closed the gap between them and murmured, “You know I am, Baby.” then he licked over Batman’s lips. 

Batman caught that teasing moist mouth and their tongues duelled for delicious moments.

His lip was caught and tugged gently, and then he was told, “I don’t bottom for anyone, not even you, Batman.”

He breathed harshly with passion, “But you just said...”

“I’ll open my mouth for you.” he whispered. “For your tongue…” 

Superman kissed him sensually, slowly, and their bodies pressed together through their uniforms. Their arms grasped on to each other’s bodies, and they echoed each other’s groans of pleasure.

Superman smiled as the kiss ended, “Hmm, I’ll open my mouth for your nice big cock too.”

Batman growled, “How do you know it’s nice and big?”

“Going on the rest of the package, I’m assuming.” his teammate’s gaze devoured him. He tilted his head, “I’m not wrong am I?”

“No, you’re not wrong.” he rasped.

“Good, I don’t like to be disappointed.” 

Batman smiled fiercely and then he took those lavish lips greedily. He spoke against them, “And your ass?”

“You want my ass, huh?” Superman teasingly asked.

Batman stepped away and circled around his teammate and came in behind him, and wrapped his arms around him. He whispered in his ear from behind, “I want to see you on your hands and knees for me.” he pressed his armoured crotch to Superman’s ass. 

Superman’s body arched and rubbed back against him, “Is that right?”

He let his gloved hands trail down the front of his teammate’s uniform, “Or bending over my desk.”

Superman chuckled huskily, “Or over my desk?”

In response to that sound, he chuckled, “Your desk will do.”

His teammate’s hand caught Batman’s gloved one and guided him down to the crotch of his blue uniform. “I’ll do that for you, Bruce.”

With satisfaction, he squeezed what he found through the fabric, “Really?”

“For your clever tongue.”

Arousal shivered through him, he scraped his teeth over the flesh of his teammate’s neck, and then spoke against it, “You want me to eat your ass.”

“Fuck yes.” Superman growled.

Hearing that earthy desire in Kryptonian’s voice, he chuckled deeply, “Fuck you with my tongue?”

“Oh yes.” his teammate answered with need.

“Ready for my cock?”

“No.” breathily, he denied.

“No, well I think I could convince you.” he said leeringly.

“I’d like you to try.” Superman groaned as he pressed back against him once again.

Going on his reactions, he stated cockily, “I’d succeed.” 

His teammate laughed, “Bruce, Bruce, Bruce.” then he spun around and he told him tauntingly, “Oh Baby, that’s not how it’s going to be between us.”

Superman took him by the throat, and Batman swallowed against his palm and then his mouth was taken completely, and with a rumble from deep in his chest, Batman responded voraciously. 

Then still holding him in his grasp, Superman walked him backwards, there was no fighting that innumerable strength and then he spread Batman back over the stainless steel table in the middle of the room. 

He looked down at him intensely from between Batman's legs. Superman murmured seriously, “I like to look a person in the eyes when I thrust my cock inside them.” 

His cock flexed behind his armour, and he rumbled, “Yes.”

Wildly, his teammate grinned down at him, “You want my cock in you, thrusting inside you?”

His cock twitched again as he confessed roughly, “Yes, Clark.” 

“I want that too, Bruce.” he uttered softly.

Then all of a sudden the door was opened and the rest of the team was there. They took in the ruined lab, they saw Superman pinning him down by the throat, and they read the situation completely the wrong way.

It was confirmed that they’d got the wrong impression when someone called, “Shit, don’t kill him, Superman!”

And then the only one there who had a chance of stopping an out of control Man of Steel rushed forward and Wonder Woman threw Superman across the room. He landed amidst the green Kryptonite shards and cried out in renewed pain. 

Behind the cowl, Batman’s brow creased in dismay as he watched Superman struggle to get up, and get away from the torture of green Kryptonite, but was warned, “Stay down, Kal.”

De-powered now, and sweaty faced Superman looked up, winced, and told their teammates, “It’s gone now, I’m alright but Batman’s not.”

~*~

Bruce opened his eyes and looked at the beautiful dawn again. Clark had known it was red Kryptonite that affected him, and it hadn’t taken Emil long to work out an antidote to Ivy’s red K grown lust spray. 

Afterwards, he’d sobered up with full and detailed memories of the incident. As he’d come to terms with what really happened, through the crowd of well wishers in the sickbay, he’d found Superman’s apprehensive gaze across the room. 

He’d gotten out of there as fast as he could without making it obvious he was running away. He’d come here to the beach alone. It was a useless attempt at hiding out. How could you hide from someone with such abilities if they really wanted to find you. 

He’d just hoped…

Bruce’s gaze found the lone figure walking along the shoreline of the private beach. The man wore blue jeans and a white shirt with the collar open, and the cuffs turned up and he also wore black framed glasses.

He sighed with resignation.

~Chapter 2~

Clark came to stand in front of the beach house, but his attention was on the dawn’s light across the ocean. For a second, there was a nimbus around him as the sun met a lover on the sea shore. Bruce took a breath at the romantic notion.

At his sharp intake of breath, the man with super-hearing slowly turned and looked up at him on the deck.

There was a moment, where there was a silent question of who would come to whom. However, it was Clark that stepped forward first. Bruce watched as his friend approached the steps that led up to the deck, but Clark didn’t come up, instead he turned and took a seat on the sand blown wooden steps. He rested his powerful forearms on his knees and waited.

Bruce watched him for a couple of minutes, and knew what Clark expected. Bruce shook his head, and then moved. He met his friend halfway, and walked down the steps and took a seat next to him, mirroring him with his hands clasped in front of him.

Their denim clad knees touched. 

They were quiet for a little while. Only the sound of the sea.

Then Clark murmured, “This is a beautiful spot, I didn’t know you had this place.”

“I don’t come here very often.” he said.

His friend nodded, “A nice getaway.”

Bruce snorted softly at the double meaning in his friend’s words. In his peripheral vision, he saw Clark’s lips kick up at the corners in response to the sound. 

He revealed, “I keep nothing here, nothing from my life here to distract me.”

“It’s tranquil.”

“I don’t stay long.”

“No, you wouldn’t, would you.”

Bruce turned his head and looked at his friend. Clark mirrored him and met his gaze. Clark smiled softly, “You like to keep your mind occupied, out here there’s only your own thoughts.”

“Yes.” he admitted to the man who understood him better than most.

It wasn’t one-sided, Bruce knew Clark just as well. His friend wasn’t going to push. He wasn’t going to demand answers. If it had been anyone else, he knew Clark would’ve already given them both an out, and told him, ‘It’s okay, we weren’t ourselves.’ Anyone else and they’d have grabbed onto that fib like a lifeline and gone along with it.

But Bruce and Clark weren’t anyone, neither under-estimated the other. They could lie to everyone else but they couldn’t pretend with each other.

Bruce shrugged, “Do you want a coffee?”

Clark nodded, “Sure, that would be nice.”

He stood up, and climbed the stairs, and urged, “Come on up.”

~*~

Bruce entered the kitchen, went to the worktop and switched the kettle on. The door closed behind Clark, as Bruce spooned some coffee into the old fashioned French press. 

As Bruce poured water from the kettle in, he felt Clark’s gaze on him.

He left it to brew for a few minutes, and turned to meet Clark’s gaze through his black framed lenses. He motioned to the small dining table. His friend took a seat. 

They met each other’s eyes again.

If they left it too long, he knew the feeling in the air between them could get strained, he didn’t want that but he wasn’t sure he was ready yet. 

His friend smiled a small but meaningful smile, “It’s not the first time we’ve been here, is it?”

He knew he didn’t mean the beach house, he meant it wasn’t the first time they’d stumbled over the intangible line between friendship and more. 

He remembered the first time there’d been a stumble.

~*~

Giant alien drones had been running amok around the world. In the Batwing, Batman had gone one-on-one with one of them that had made the mistake of hovering over his city. He’d been high in the atmosphere when it had gotten a lucky shot. His plane had spiralled out of control, and he’d had to eject. 

As soon as his lungs had met the sparse air, he’d been in trouble. His co-ordination had gone almost immediately. As he free-fell He’d been on the verge of passing out when suddenly he’d been able to breathe again. 

It had been instinctive, as stridently he’d taken in lungfuls of warm moist air. As his senses returned, he realised he wasn’t free-falling any more, he was floating upright. He was being held in a cocoon of strength. Instinctively, he clung to that strength. As he breathed in, he opened his eyes to slits, and he found the source of that strength, the source of the warm moist sanctuary that his lips were pressed to. 

In that moment, looking into those caring otherworldly eyes, he’d groaned earthily as trust, fondness and sexual awareness infused his body and mind and he opened his mouth wider and moved his lips against his.

The returning echo was at first surprised, and then the sound of it stretched out and became a satisfied hum. Both their eyes closed as languidly, Batman pressed his tongue into that moist warmth and synchronously, Superman’s tongue had met his.

It was only when their feet had met the pavement that the kiss of life had ended. 

As they’d pulled back, Batman had blinked slowly, and uttered softly, “Thank you.” 

However, before Superman could reply, he’d been distracted as he’d seen over Superman’s shoulder the Batwing crash land in Gotham Harbour.

He’d cursed the damned aliens, and then without a second to lose, the warriors had returned to the battle. By the time the fight was over, the kiss had seemed distant and dreamlike.

It had been the first stumble, but it hadn’t been the last. They’d not bothered with cliched excuses that time or any other time either, they’d just never spoken about the incidents. 

They’d just let it be. 

~*~

As his attention returned to the here and now, Bruce breathed deeply, he cleared his throat, then finally acknowledged what Clark had eluded to, “Last night was more blatant.” he said. 

He turned back to the worktop to finish off making the coffee. A minute later, he turned back with two mugs of hot coffee and brought them over, and placed them on the dining table. He took a seat again.

Silently, they sipped their hot drinks.

Then Bruce filled in the silence, “Without the words, it was easier.”

Clark nodded. “In a way, the words were what saved us last night.”

He frowned.

Meaningfully, his friend shrugged.

He cottoned on to what he meant, and raised both eyebrows. Yes, it was true, if they’d acted instead of describing what they wanted to do to each other, the rest of the Justice League would’ve found them in a position that couldn’t have been misconstrued.

Bruce took another sip of his coffee. Then rubbed his forehead as he felt his tiredness sneak up on him again. “Damn, I just realised that I shouldn’t be drinking caffeine. I was just about to go to bed.”

Their eyes met intensely for a second and then they both glanced away at the same time.

Clark licked his lips, and then nodded, “You should go, get some rest. I need to call into the Planet anyway.”

He knew it wasn’t over, but he was relieved at the offered postponement. He took another heaving breath, he nodded, and stood up. “I’ll see you later then.”

His friend nodded and headed for the door, “See you in a bit.”

~Chapter 3~

Bruce woke up later, and glanced at the clock on the bedside cabinet. It was six hours since dawn. He laid there for a minute and then forced himself up. He slipped his jeans back on and walked shirtless out to the kitchen.

Halfway there, he could already smell fresh coffee brewing. 

When he got to the kitchen, he saw that he was right. He glanced around, and then his focus found his visitor through the window sitting at the small table on the deck outside. 

With fond exasperation, he shook his head and then went outside. 

Clark turned and watched him approach through his black framed lenses. He saw Clark’s eyes taking in his pillow made messy hair, down to his shirtless muscular torso, down to his denim clad crotch and back up again. Seeing the patent interest in his friend’s eyes made Bruce's crotch a little snugger, but he ignored that primal reaction, just as he’d always done before.

He wondered, “The coffee’s fresh, how did you know I was going to wake up?”

His friend pulled on his own earlobe, “I heard your breathing change, and your heartbeat speed up.”

It was a little unsettling to know Clark was that attuned to him. He nodded along and then asked, “I thought you were going to work?”

Clark shook his head, “I said I had to call in…” and he motioned to his phone that was lying on the table.

“So you’ve just been waiting around for me to wake up?”

His friend was looking out at the isolated golden sands of the beach, “It’s not a bad place to spend the day.”

Bruce frowned, and went and leaned back with his ass against the balustrade. “Spend the day?”

Clark turned back to him, and then slowly gazed up at him. Bruce gazed down at his friend. He realised he’d indirectly positioned himself in a similar position as last night. Clark’s eyes were level with Bruce’s denim clad crotch. 

There was a moment when he almost apologised for the blunder.

But his friend smiled, and glossed over the mishap, “I’m going to give you the chance to wake up properly, and then I’m going to make us some lunch.”

It was a nice idea, and without being an asshole, he couldn’t think of a reason to send his friend away. He smiled, “What are you going to make for us?”

~*~

He returned to the bedroom, and slipped his dark blue t-shirt back on, and then returned to the kitchen. He saw Clark notice his cover up, but as usual Clark let it be, and didn’t comment. 

Bruce perched on the dining table with his bare feet resting on the seat of one of the chairs and drank his second cup of coffee as his friend worked in his kitchen. 

He watched him prepare hard boiled eggs, lettuce, tomatoes, cucumber, some pickles and sear two tuna steaks on the griddle. Bruce hadn’t brought any groceries with him, Alfred always made sure coffee and tea supplies were always in the cupboard so he knew Clark must’ve checked his cupboards and then gone shopping while he was asleep.

While he waited, his gaze found and lingered on his friend’s strong body, his broad straight shoulders, sweeping down to a trim waist, down to his pert denim clad ass. 

He remembered last night, Clark telling him what he wanted Bruce to do him. He took a gulp of coffee, and swallowed it hard. He remembered his mouth under his, open and hungry. He remembered his own unmistakable hunger. He knew the catalyst had been out of either of their control but he knew the desire had been his own and he knew he’d never been that close to letting his passion consume him, and take over his senses. 

He watched his friend as he made lunch like any mortal man. Except, Clark Kent was anything but mortal, but even if he had been, he’d still be exceptional. He was the kind of man that made Bruce Wayne sit there and wonder what giving his passion a free rein would feel like. 

Clark turned the stove off, and then got two glasses out of the cupboard. He turned with them in his hands. He stopped short when their gazes met, he knew he’d caught that considering look on his face, because his friend breathed noisily through his nose and then shook his head minutely. 

Then Clark averted his gaze, and came over and put the glasses on the table. Bruce’s gaze followed him, and he knew Clark could feel his gaze because he saw his eyelashes flutter as he blinked before he turned and returned to the counter-top. 

He saw him straighten his shoulders with fortitude, before he turned with a pitcher of lemonade in his hand. He brought that over to the table too. As he placed it down, their arms rubbed past each other. Clark half turned to look at where they touched. 

Slowly, his focus raised until his exquisite eyes met Bruce’s mouth. They lingered heavy lidded for a moment, until hesitantly Clark leaned in and he sweetly brushed his lips across Bruce’s cheek. There was no time to respond before those soft lips slipped away, and so did Clark as he turned and went and collected their plates and cutlery.

As he returned to the table, without words, only the motion of his head, he told Bruce to sit at the dining table properly, in a seat. Bruce smirked as he reminded him of Alfred, and did as he was told.

Clark placed their plates down, and joined him at the table. Bruce seasoned his meal and then picked up his fork and told him, “This was really nice of you.”

His friend tilted his head and replied, “Well I am nice.”

Bruce smiled, “Yeah, I know.”

Clark mirrored his smile with a soft one, and companionably they enjoyed their lunch together.

~*~

Afterwards, they agreed that if Clark was staying the day, that they would go outside and take the opportunity to bask in the sun for a while. Within the privacy of the private beach, he removed his black framed glasses and left them on the dining table.

They laid out a blanket on the sand. 

After a while of quiet togetherness, Clark took off his shoes and socks, and then stood up and wandered over to the sea’s edge and let the fluffy white sea foam roll over his feet. Bruce watched the childlike endeavour with affection. 

The heat of the day grew, and Bruce caught the hem of his t-shirt and pulled it off over his head. He laid his muscled torso out on the blanket and let the sun bathe him. 

After a while, he heard the soft scuffle of sand underfoot and then felt a shadow fall on him, and he opened his eyes to see the figure blocking out the sun. With the light of the sun haloing him again, Clark was gazing down at him with soft contemplation in his eyes. 

Bruce murmured, “I don’t give myself chance to sunbathe often.”

Next to him on the blanket, Clark slowly fell and sat on his haunches, “I don’t either.”

“I’m surprised with how much the sun loves you.” he told him.

Clark deferred with a smile, “I think it’s the other way around.”

Bruce shook his head, and he got to his knees, and he reached out and began unfastening the buttons of Clark’s white shirt. In stillness, and with shallow breaths, Clark watched him do it. 

Bruce spread the material, and exposed his friend’s chest and abdomen to the solar rays. The desire to touch was overwhelming and he let his thumbs caress down the hard planes of muscle, and when he got to his waistband, he glanced up and met his gaze tentatively, and then his hands went around and caressed his round denim clad ass cheeks. 

His friend’s broad chest heaved, and he sighed, “Bruce.”

Hearing his name sound like that, Bruce groaned softly and drew back and lay back down on the blanket. He gazed up at him, but Clark stayed kneeling there looking at him for a minute, before he laid himself out next to him on the blanket. He lay on his side with his head resting sideways on his crooked arm.

For lingeringly moments, Clark regarded him with those otherworldly eyes, and Bruce observed him doing it silently. Then slowly, Clark reached out and his palm travelled from Bruce's thigh, skirted past his tight crotch, that got tighter because of that fleeting pass and then slowly, he explored Bruce’s abdomen. 

His hand cupped Bruce’s pectoral and gently his thumb brushed his nipple. His body arched and shivered under his friend’s touch. 

Clark’s hand continued up, and tenderly cupped his throat, and Bruce moaned and swallowed against it. He heard Clark’s almost silent growl, before his hand left his throat and his thumb caressed Bruce's cheek, into his hair and then finally his lips.

His mouth was teased open, and then slowly Clark raised up a little and then descended, and his mouth slowly enveloped Bruce’s. Instinctively, he opened his mouth and relished everything about the kiss. It had the sensuality of last night’s raw kisses but with a tenderness and care that wasn’t red Kryptonite induced, it was pure Clark Kent. 

He felt Clark's warm bare torso come closer and press against his. Bruce groaned into his mouth and he reached under Clark's shirt for his naked back to bring him closer. Slowly, their tongues danced and small noises of contentment echoed between them. Bruce’s hands strayed down and caressed Clark’s ass cheeks again. Clark moaned and then his hand came up, and cupped Bruce’s hardening length through the denim of his jeans.

As a shock of pleasure went through him, Bruce gasped and pulled back, and stared up at his closest of friends who finally had his hand on him.

Whatever Clark saw in his face, he winced in reaction and said, “Sorry.”

Then he pulled away.

A little breeze ruffled Clark’s shirt and Bruce’s hair as he watched him walk away and up to the beach house. He palmed his own crotch once, and grumbled. He got up and slowly walked up to the house. He found Clark on the deck looking out past the blanket on the beach, out to sea. 

For a second, he wondered if his friend could see the distant coast or was that distance too much for even him.

He shook his head of the trivial thoughts, and came and stood beside his friend. In a quiet murmur, almost a rasp, he chided, “It’s amazing that for someone with such tremendous willpower, you give in so easily sometimes.”

He saw Clark’s jaw tense and then he said quietly but sternly, “It shouldn’t be a struggle, Bruce.”

Bruce swallowed hard and confessed to the endless sea, “For that small eternity, I wasn’t struggling.”

Clark’s gaze darted to him, and he could feel him watching him, trying to weigh up everything, the situation, him, the repercussions for the future. Bruce kept looking at the ocean and then he felt his friend move in behind him. He felt Clark’s strong capable arms wrap around him from behind.

His friend’s strong hand on his chest guided him back until he was leaning into him, his friend’s full naked torso pressed against his naked back. Bruce’s arm covered his and held on.

He could feel the thrum of Clark’s heartbeat through his back, and knew Clark could feel his too. They shared their connection, and just held each other. 

~Chapter 5~

In that cocoon of closeness and serenity as Clark held him, Bruce became aware of the proof of his friend’s desire pressed against his ass, and his eyes fluttered closed, and instinct made him press subtly back. In response, Clark’s arms tightened around him, and he shushed against the hot skin of Bruce’s neck. 

He knew Clark was doing his best to keep things cool-headed, trying not to rush but feeling his lips brush his flesh made Bruce tilt his head and offer his neck to him. Clark groaned in response to the offering, his hand cupped Bruce’s pectoral and then his soft lips played along his neck. Bruce moaned, and he pressed back on him again.

This time his friend met him, and pressed forward. With his eyes still closed, Bruce smiled, and he pushed back even firmer. Clark’s lips sucked harder on his neck, and at the same time, Clark’s arms lifted him a couple of inches and he felt himself slide down over his friend’s trapped length. 

Bruce growled quietly, and turned his head, and their lips met over his shoulder. As they kissed, he lifted up and rubbed himself over that trapped length. He felt and heard Clark pray, “God.” against his lips.

He laid his head back against his friend’s shoulder and laughed with giddy exuberance. 

At his laugh, Clark grumbled and let his arms fall away. Bruce watched keenly as Clark returned to his side and then turn and lean sitting against the balustrade. Bruce's gaze found the bulge in Clark’s jeans that he’d felt rubbing his ass. When he raised his gaze to Clark’s face, he saw his friend was watching him intently. 

Bruce asked wryly, “If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you were trying to make me do all the work.”

Clark cocked an eyebrow, “Still not struggling?”

As his answer, he held his friend’s gaze with soft intensity. 

His friend rolled his eyes, and then reached out and caught Bruce’s jeans by the waistband and tugged him gently to stand in front of him. He surprised himself and didn’t struggle, he just gazed down at the man who meant so much to him. 

Clark was gazing up again, but not quite at crotch level. Then meaningfully, Clark held his gaze and leaned in and he kissed Bruce’s abdomen. Bruce breathed heavy and held that gaze. Then he watched Clark’s eyes close before he blindly kissed another place, and then another. He wanted to close his eyes at feeling his friend’s soft lips and moist tongue and hot breath on his body, but he didn’t, he watched him with heavy lidded eyes. 

His friend’s soft exploring lips kissed their way up to Bruce’s chest, and when he licked over his nipple, Bruce groaned loudly, and he cupped his friend’s head with both his hands.

Clark hummed and then sucked it slowly. Bruce’s fingers curled into black silky waves, and his mouth opened and panted in pleasure. Clark spoke around his damp nipple, “You taste so good, Bruce.”

He rasped quietly, “Your mouth feels as good as I thought it would.”

His friend’s hands reached around and cupped his ass, and Bruce relished how it felt. Then at the same time, Clark’s mouth worked it’s way up to Bruce’s throat, and he licked and sucked there. Bruce’s eyes rolled back in pleasure and his fingers tightened in his hair. 

He held on as Clark began trailing his tongue down Bruce’s torso, and his hands left his ass and came to the front of his jeans again, fingers near the fly. 

He recognised Clark’s intention, and though his cock eagerly pressed against his zipper, with his hands still cupping his head, he made Clark look up at him. When he did, Bruce gazed down, and he shook his head, silently ‘No’.

Clark’s brow creased in consternation.

Bruce held out his hand, “Come back to the blanket.”

He could see that his friend didn’t know his intentions, but a long time of relying and trusting each other meant Clark reached out and took his hand. Bruce smiled, gave his hand a squeeze and guided him away from the deck, down the wooden stairs and hand in hand they walked over the sun warmed sand to the blanket.

Still holding hands, they sat down side by side, and gazed out to sea watching the waves tumble into shore for a long minute. Bruce’s focus was drawn back to the man sitting beside him. A moment later, Clark turned and looked at him, and Bruce smirked. His friend frowned at him, but his eyes crinkled at the same time. 

Bruce gazed at Clark’s lips, and Clark blinked and then leaned steadily in. He leaned in too, and their lips met in a smile.

They drew away and chuckled together.

Clark shook his head and blushed charmingly. Bruce reached out and caressed his pinked cheek, caressed his plush lips, and then he leaned in and kissed him again. 

His friend responded carefully but thoroughly, and he groaned when Bruce guided him slowly back until they was laying on the blanket. They were lined up, face to face, chest to chest, and crotch to crotch. Bruce pulled back and gazed down at him, and Clark gazed up at him heavy lidded and beautiful, gleaming in the sun.

Bruce kissed his lips again, and then he kissed lower, along his throat. Clark moaned and arched his throat in pleasure, a sweet offering. Bruce took the offer, and he licked and he sucked at the delicious flesh there. A strong hand took careful hold of the back on his head, his fingertips scraped his scalp and it sent tingles down his spine. 

He opened his mouth and sucked harder, and with a quiet growl, scraped him with his teeth. The attention was the fiercest they’d shared so far and Clark took a ragged breath, and his body arched under his. 

It was intoxicating to hear that and know it was for him, caused by him. He wanted to hear more, and with his mouth he explored down a plane of muscle and then sucked a peaked nipple into his mouth. He sucked hard and when he heard a plaintive, “Bruce, god, Bruce.” he smiled around it.

He continued on down and mouthed his way to an oblique and licked it. Clark made a soft little noise and Bruce looked up and met his bright aquamarine gaze. He could see apprehension in his friend’s eyes but he could see serious pent up need too. 

Bruce lifted himself up, and he leaned in towards Clark’s panting lips, and with another of those soft sounds, Clark closed the gap and kissed him. 

They kissed and their tongues met, and then the kiss grew until they were as hungry for each other as last night in the lab, just as hungry but without red Kryptonite, just as hungry without the lust spray. Their bodies rubbed over each other, exquisite pressure and denim covered writhing.

It was thrilling and it was alarming in equal measure to know what they’d been holding back for so long. The passion and feeling between them.

~Chapter 6~

So far they’d shared kisses, longer and more intimate than ever before, but still only kisses. 

There was still time to turn back. 

Bruce drew back and stared down at his friend, beautifully flushed, kiss bruised lips, and lust drunk eyes that promised so much. Bruce caressed his temple, and kissed it, caressing and kissing down along his strong jaw, to his throat. 

He wrapped his hand around his throat in the mirror image of last night. In response, Clark held his gaze and moaned softly. “Bruce.”

Holding his gaze, Bruce let that hand trail down the muscles of Clark’s bare torso, and then he closed his palm over his straining denim clad crotch. A soft whine left Clark’s throat. “Please.”

He felt a sense of power twirl around his body, and he asked huskily, “Please what?”

Clark licked his lips, and then almost sobbed, “Please stop.”

To hear that word right now was dreadful, and Bruce swallowed hard, “You want us to stop?”

His friend shook his head and replied, “No.” he swallowed hard with emotion, “I want you, Bruce.”

“So why tell me to stop?” he asked gravelly.

Clark took a breath and admitted, “Because I don’t want you to stop later when it’ll be too late.”

Emotionally, Bruce said, “You know me so well don’t you, Clark. Because right now all we’ve done is kiss…”

His friend nodded against the blanket, “There’s still time to turn back.” 

With feeling, Bruce swooped down and kissed him hard. As he pulled away, he implored, “Do you know where it is Clark, do know where the line is? How much we can share until it’s too far?”

Clark reached up and stroked his face tenderly, “It depends on how stubborn we are, and how strong our friendship really is.”

He leaned into his stroking hand like a cat, and uttered, “We can forget kisses, can’t we?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Not forget, just let them go.”

“Yes, you’re right.”

His friend laughed, “Finally, I’m right about something.”

Bruce laughed too, “It’s not the first time.” He gazed down into that face full of mirth and murmured, “You’re beautiful, do you know that?”

Clark’s breath caught, and he pressed his finger to Bruce’s lips, “You can’t say that.”

He hissed at the quiet rebuke and asked, “Too much?”

His friend nodded, “If we’re going to turn back, yes.”

Bruce bowed his head and kissed the sun warmed flesh of Clark’s chest. He murmured, “Just a kiss.”

Clark sighed, “Yes.”

He went lower and kissed his belly, “Just a kiss.” he looked up, and he murmured, “Just a kiss.” then he went further and kissed the bulge in his friend’s jeans.

It flexed under his lips, and Clark’s hands grasped his head. “Don’t.”

He looked up and met his gaze and rumbled, “I want to kiss you.”

Clark whined as he saw the look in his eyes and asked, “Where?”

Bruce’s lip curled, “Where you wanted me to kiss you last night.”

His friend let out fluttery nervous laughter. “Bruce, that’s… that’s definitely too far.”

He knew it was true but looking at his friend right now, so flustered, so shy and so sexy, he wanted to push the line to the limit. He smiled and teased, “It’s still only a kiss.”

“We can’t…” 

He leaned in and nuzzled the front of Clark’s jeans again, “You don’t think we could let a kiss there go?”

Nervously, Clark licked his lips, and then snorted, “We’re nowhere near your desk.”

Knowing Clark was coming up with silly excuses because he was tempted, made Bruce grin. His friend’s brow creased and he laughed out a complaint, “Don’t do that.” 

Still grinning, Bruce asked, “Do what?”

Clark grabbed him by the shoulders, and dragged him up to him face to face, admonished, “Don’t be all smug and sexy.”

Then Clark brushed his lips with his. Bruce drew back and taunted, “So I’m not allowed to say you’re beautiful but you’re allowed to call me sexy?”

His friend denied, “I’m not setting any rules here, I just…”

Bruce murmured seductively, “Want me to kiss you there.”

Clark’s nostrils flared and he replied gravelly, “You want me on my knees but you won’t let me do it for you.”

He flung himself away and lay back on the blanket and gritted his teeth to the sky. 

He wasn’t angry or even annoyed, because Clark was right, he was just frustrated. He wanted it all. A few years ago, when they just met and were almost strangers, barely friends, it would’ve been easier to have it all, to have Clark, to share a few sweaty nights where sexual attraction was the flame between them. 

After it was over, there may have been a few weeks, maybe months of awkwardness between them but that’s all because it wouldn’t have meant that much to either of them. But wasn’t that the problem, back then it wouldn’t have meant as much. A whole night then wouldn’t have been as thrilling or as anguishing as just kissing his friend here today. 

~Chapter 7~

As he laid there thinking, there was movement, as Clark stood up and his footsteps padded away again. Bruce shook his head and internally bemoaned finding someone so nice, and upright as his object of affection.

A moment later, he was surprised, when he felt Clark take a seat on the blanket again. He opened his eyes to look, and found Clark offering him a peach. Bruce frowned. Clark smiled, and bit into his own fruit. Still frowning, Bruce sat up, and accepted the ripe peach. 

He bit into it with a slurp, and the juice trickled down his chin, and his friend chuckled at him. Bruce chewed as he wiped his chin. With narrowed eyes, he uttered, “You’re a strange person.”

Clark took another bite of his own fruit and chuckled around it, “Look who’s talking.”

Bruce shook his head with exasperation but his lips curled at the corners. This was what he didn’t want to give up or change. His friendship with Clark was so important to him, and something they did today could jeopardize that bond. 

This bond was stronger than with anyone who wasn’t his family, however it was also more flexible too. With nobody else could he share the intimacy they’d shared so far today and still go back to being just friends. Somebody else and they’d be insulted he couldn’t give them more, someone else and it would strain their working relationship. But Clark Kent wasn’t someone else, Clark Kent was patiently sitting next to him on a blanket on the beach eating a juicy peach.

Bruce laughed aloud at the truth of it. 

Suddenly, he was swept back on the blanket and Clark’s mouth was pressed to his. His peach forgotten, Bruce groaned and welcomed the renewed kisses. Then Clark’s tongue was licking his lips, and then tickling over his chin where the peach juice had run. And Bruce laughed again. 

Clark pulled back and looked down at him, and asked huskily, “You’re trying to seduce me, aren’t you?”

Bruce grinned up and shook his head, “I’m only laughing.”

His friend swallowed hard, and said seriously, “See.”

He admitted, “You make me smile.”

Clark leaned in and kissed his cheek and then the shell of his ear and whispered, “Yeah, I know.” 

It tickled again and he tilted his head away. Doing so bared his neck and Clark kissed a path down it. Bruce’s arms reached around and his hands rubbed up and down Clark’s back. 

“You feel so good.” he told him.

“So do you.” Clark groaned into his neck.

Clark’s hand caressed over Bruce’s torso, over his chest and down over his abs. When his palm covered his crotch, this time Bruce didn’t stop him, he let his hand slowly massage him. He groaned quietly at the pleasure.

His friend raised his face and made eye contact and then watching his reactions, Clark slipped his hand down into Bruce’s waistband. When his friend’s hand made contact with his erection, Bruce let out a shuddery breath, and Clark’s eyes flared.

Bruce whispered hoarsely, “Isn’t this too much?”

Clark didn’t reply in words, he made a fist around his cock and stroked him. He let him, and he mewed softly as he grew harder and harder until physical pleasure almost overrode everything important. 

Ripping the word from his throat, he said, “Stop.” 

He caught his friend’s hand, and he drew it out of his jeans, he kissed his knuckles and lamented, “God, Clark.”

His friend breathed, “You don’t want me to stop, Bruce.”

Bruce blew out a breath, and he dragged himself away and stood up. He went to walk away, he needed time to think. However, Clark grasped his hips, and Bruce looked down at his friend who was now on his knees. Bruce’s erection strained his jeans, as Clark told him, “I’m here, Bruce. On my knees, for you.”

With emotion and terseness, he gritted out, “Don’t Clark! I need to calm down so I can think.”

Clark blinked wide eyes up at him, and then he glanced away and then he bowed his head in defeat. 

Bruce walked away down the beach. He really needed to think. Yet hadn’t that always been his problem, he thought too much. He remembered that look in Clark’s eyes, surprise and disappointment at his vehemence. He didn’t turn back to look. He had to believe that the man who knew him so well would understand him now. 

~Chapter 8~

He was gone for a while, and he’d used the time not to think, but instead to clear his mind. 

When he returned, he noticed the blanket and his t-shirt were gone from the sand. He winced. Then with slumped shoulders, he walked up the stairs to the deck. 

A sense of relief washed over him as he smelled cooking food coming from inside. 

He walked in to find Clark was sure enough cooking again. He hadn’t realised he’d been gone that long but he was grateful that his friend was still here. He approached him from behind, and he wrapped his arms around his waist, and because Clark’s white shirt was still open, his thumbs caressed Clark’s bare abdomen. He whispered in his ear, “I’m sorry.”

Easily, Clark leaned back into him, and replied over his shoulder, “If you being gruff was a problem for me, we’d have never been friends.”

Bruce snorted softly and kissed his neck tenderly, “I know.”

Clark wiggled a little, “You're all prickly now.”

He frowned at the comment, and then he realised that he hadn't shaved today, and that the long hours had given him stubble. He smirked to himself mischievously and rubbed his cheek against Clark's neck. 

Clark squirmed and admonished, “I’m trying to cook here.”

He smiled, and asked, “What’re we having?”

“Baked potato and steak.” he revealed.

“Sounds good.” he murmured.

He felt it as Clark took a deep breath. He expected his friend to say something, maybe ask him what he thought he was doing, backing away before and now being sidled in against him. However, Clark didn’t speak the words, he just carried on with what he was doing.

He knew from Clark’s proclamation out on the beach that he was willing to go over the boundary of friendship with him, if that’s what Bruce wanted. Bruce was gratified by that, but a part of him wished he didn’t have to make the choice. He wished his mild mannered friend would take him to the line and then push him over it. 

He remembered back in the lab, how affected by red Kryptonite, Superman had pinned him down and told him how he wanted to look him in the eye when he…

His body reacted to the memory, and Clark groaned feeling it against his ass. Then his friend chided, “You’re distracting me.”

Bruce kissed his neck again, and then pulled away, and gave him back his personal space by walking over into the open space of living room. He turned around and saw that Clark’s eyes had followed him. They held each other’s gaze for a long lingering moment. Then Clark turned and he squinted at the oven, and Bruce knew he was using his enhanced vision to see inside the oven, checking the potatoes.

Then Clark turned and his gaze found Bruce’s tight crotch, and then he met his gaze again, he blinked slowly, and then he left the kitchen and approached him. Then he smiled teasingly, “You’re really torturing that poor body of yours, aren’t you? It doesn’t know if it’s coming or going today.”

He swallowed hard as Clark’s teasing wasn’t helping matters right now. He said dryly, “There hasn’t been any coming that’s for sure.”

At his reply, his friend grinned blindingly. “We have a little while until the potatoes are done and the steak can go on.”

He replied huskily, “Clark.”

“Kiss me.” his friend said.

"I thought you didn't like the stubble."

Clark licked his lips in response and denied, "I didn't say that."

Bruce’s brow creased and then he closed the space between them and then he slowly took his friend’s mouth. Clark groaned in pleasure and pulled him closer so they were bare chest to bare chest again and deepened the kiss.

He wrapped his fingers in that black silkiness again and licked into his soft mouth. Clark’s arms tightened around him, his hands caressed the bare newly tanned skin of Bruce’s back and responded heatedly. 

Their zippers pressed together, and their crotches met through the denim of their jeans. Both of their hands strayed to the other’s asses and held on. 

When Bruce needed to breathe, he tore his mouth away and panted against Clark’s moist lips, “Kissing you is better that anything else with anyone else.”

Clark smiled, a combination of shy and smug, and then he raised an impish eyebrow. “Just imagine how good it would be if we did more than kissing.”

Bruce pressed his forehead to Clark’s and confessed, “Please, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I know and I know you mean it. Maybe that’s why I’m here; maybe that’s why I’m willing to risk it.” his best friend confessed in return.

“I wish there was no risk; I wish you could promise everything won’t be ruined. I’d believe you, Clark.”

Clark’s eyes were full of feeling as he whispered, “I can’t promise that, but what I can promise is that I’ll try my best to prevent it. I won’t lose you, Bruce.”

He took a breath and played devil’s advocate, “The best way to prevent everything from being ruined, is not to go any further.”

His friend’s jaw tensed subtly but he nodded slowly. “Okay.”

Bruce frowned, “Okay?”

Clark shrugged, “Yeah.” and then he slipped away out of his arms, and returned to the kitchen.

Bruce’s jaw tightened as his friend let it go seemingly with ease. It was what they’d talked about earlier, it was all for the best but it still irked him, that Clark could simply agree.

With tension in his frame, he walked over to the table and he watched his friend finish cooking for them. He watched him cook the steaks, and finish off the potatoes, while adding more butter than Bruce normally allowed himself. He watched him bring the food to the table. He watched him sit down across from him. And while he ate his own steak and potatoes, he watched Clark eat his.

Then it all got too much for him and he complained, “There’s too much butter on these potatoes.”

Clark shrugged, “You don’t have to have everything just because it’s been put in front of you.”

He heard barbs in his friend’s innocent sounding words and he sneered, “That’s really clever, put it there to tempt me, drive me crazy and then just shrug it off.”

His friend frowned at his harsh tone, studied him a long moment, and then Clark snorted, “So now you’re pissed off at me for trying to do what you wanted?”

Bruce narrowed his gaze and uttered, “So mild mannered, so nice, or maybe it’s really just as ice cold as your Fortress of Solitude. Coming here, forcing us to face this instead of letting it go, coming on hot and heavy and then backing away, putting it all on me, making me choose.”

Clark’s face was incredulous as he asked, “Listen to yourself, making you choose?” 

“That’s right.” he muttered.

His friend’s expression became steely. “Dammit, Bruce, I’m the one making all the choices here, taking all the risks. I chose not to let what happened last night go. I chose to search the world for you. I chose to come here and see…” Clark’s jaw tightened with emotion, “...I came to see if you were all right. I came to see if you wanted to acknowledge what happened between us this time.” 

Clark stood up abruptly and paced. He ground out, “I waited for you to wake up for six hours. I waited just to see what you wanted to do about it.” He stopped pacing, “I was willing to abide by your decision.” He swallowed hard with emotion, “And then you touched me.” 

His friend pressed his hands against the table, and leaned towards him, and sneered quietly, “And then you backed off, again, and then again.” 

Intensely, Bruce studied him.

“I chose when I was on my knees for you in the sand, Bruce.” Clark squinted at him, “And you walked away. And after you came back I still gave you another chance.” He sneered, “But I’m the one that’s in the wrong for letting you decide what you want, even though I’ve told you and I’ve shown you what I want all god-damned day.”

He gazed at his friend, so full of turbulent emotion, looming over the dining table and telling him off, his eyes flashing with passion. Bruce’s chair skidded back as he stood up abruptly. In reaction, the Man of Steel only glared at him not fussed in the slightest. 

Bruce smiled sharply, “You’re damned sexy when you’re angry.”

Clark blinked, and his anger was just gone, and there was only confusion and curiosity on his face. 

Bruce caught his friend’s hand, “Come on.”

Just as earlier, Clark didn’t argue, he let Bruce lead him away. 

~Chapter 9~

When they entered the bedroom of the beach house, Clark hesitated at the doorway. “Bruce…?”

Bruce smirked, and he reached for the white shirt that Clark had been wearing unfastened all afternoon, and he finally pushed it back from Clark’s muscular shoulders. His friend let him, and then shook the shirt down his powerful arms and let it fall to the polished floorboards. Bruce teased, “It’s about time we got rid of that thing.”

Soft laughter escaped Clark, and then he looked around the bedroom and asked, “You’ve got a mirrored wall?”

“You think I’m that crass or vain?” He shook his head, “No, built in wardrobes that just happen to have mirrors for doors.”

His friend eyed him suspiciously, and then walked further into the bedroom. He ran his hand over the brown leather-bound thickly cushioned bedstead. “Bit fancy for a beach house.”

Bruce shrugged, “Still a billionaire.”

Clark nodded and smiled earnestly, “I sometimes forget that.”

He swallowed hard and admitted, “I love that you can forget that.”

He watched him blink slowly, and gaze back at him softly. Bruce approached him, and then leaned in. His friend met him halfway and their lips met tenderly. Then Bruce murmured meaningfully, “I want to kiss you.”

Clark gazed at him with eyes as deep as the ocean outside, and understood him as always. His friend swallowed hard, and Clark who was still barefooted from earlier, climbed onto the white sheeted but unmade bed, and then positioned himself with his hands braced on the rounded leather headboard. With his knees spread on the mattress, his round ass cheeks stretched the denim of his jeans in this position. It was the position that he’d asked him for last night, it wasn’t his desk but his friend was giving him as close as he could get. 

A part of him wanted to say, ‘forget what we said last night’ but the truth was, it had been the truth, and if he wanted him like that, then he had to assume, Clark had meant what he’d said he wanted too. 

Bruce took a deep breath and then he climbed on the bed, and came up behind the strong body of his friend. He reached out and he stroked his hands over his solid frame, over his back, down his waist and hips. Clark groaned softly at his touch and his head bowed forward against the cushioned headboard. 

Then Bruce's hand encountered something under the denim of his jeans. His brow creased in curiosity and he reached into Clark’s jeans pocket, and when he pulled it out, he found it was a small tube of lubricant. Seeing it, made Bruce’s whole body quiver, he asked raspy and low, “You were expecting what was going to happen today?”

Clark replied, “No, I just always knew that we’d have to face it at sometime. After last night, I thought that maybe it would be today.”

Bruce leaned over and kissed between his shoulder blades. Then he reached around and he caressed over his broad chest and his abs. Touching and feeling his friend’s body felt incredible after wanting to do it for so long. He cupped the bulge at his crotch, and a soft groan escaped his friend’s lips. He caressed those tightly covered ass cheeks. He ran his hands over his thighs too, and smiled as Clark’s body pressed back for his touch. 

He reached around again, and he unfastened his friend’s waistband, and he heard Clark’s sigh of relief as the pressure was taken off his crotch. Again, Bruce started at his shoulders, and he caressed his way down. When his hands reached the waistband, his fingers went inside and he drew the jeans and his light blue boxer shorts down until they were both around Clark’s muscled thighs.

A sight he’d wondered about for a long time was presented for him. His friend’s ass was firm and sweetly rounded. He praised, “Your ass is lovely.”

Clark groaned against the leather of the headboard, “You think so?”

Bruce caressed the cheeks and spread them slightly, huskily he confirmed, “Yes, yes I do.”

Clark made a soft desperate sound and squirmed a little. That sound sent electricity around Bruce’s body, and he reached under him and he wrapped his hand around the girth of his friend’s cock for the first time. At his touch, Clark bucked back a little, and Bruce grinned to himself. 

Then Clark murmured, “Don’t look so smug, Mr Wayne.”

He frowned at the retort but then he caught sight in his peripheral vision of their reflections in the mirrors. He saw Clark had his head turned sideways on the headboard and was watching his every action and reaction. That knowledge excited him, and he slowly stroked Clark’s cock, and watched his friend’s reaction in the mirror. 

Clark’s eyes were getting dark and heavy lidded with pleasure. Bruce held his gaze, as he continued stroking him, enjoying giving him that pleasure, enjoying the heaviness and thickness of that pleasure in his hand. He held his gaze in the reflection as he kissed his back, and followed the line of his spine and he held his gaze as he got to his cleft. He let go of his cock, and in the reflection he watched it bob hard and taunt, and then blindly, he spread his cheeks, and locking gazes with him again, he licked his centre.

His friend’s body jerked at the sensation, his full mouth opened as he gasped. Bruce growled quietly and licked him again. Clark’s brow creased with what looked like pain, but he knew wasn’t. 

“You like that, don’t you?” Bruce asked gutturally against him.

As Clark returned his gaze in the mirror, only a soft mewing sound escaped his friend’s pretty mouth.

Bruce licked again, “Fuck, I know I do.” and pointed his tongue and pressed deeper. 

He watched Clark’s eyes flutter closed.

Bruce tore his attention away, and looked at where he’d been licking. He groaned in arousal, spread his cheeks wider and he leaned in and he did what he’d said he’d do, he kissed him there. Tender and careful, then deeper and hungry.

Fluttering open, Clark’s lust drunk eyes stared into the reflection as he panted and whispered, “God, Bruce yes. Your tongue feels so good, so good.”

He grabbed Clark's jeans again and tugged them off, and haphazardly, Clark lifted his knees and helped. 

His own jeans were straining at the crotch, and he drew back, and he met Clark’s gaze in the reflection again. Holding that gaze, Bruce smiled slowly, and then grasped Clark's hips, and he rocked himself over his centre, through the valley. Seeing the visual that looked as though he was being fucked by his best friend, Clark swore under his breath and pushed back for what he was doing.

He did it until Clark pushed himself up from the headboard, and Bruce moaned, and held still as he panted against Clark’s shoulder, so close to making a mess in his pants. He panted in his ear, “Sit on the headboard.”

His friend moved and did as he asked. Bruce crawled closer, and then he gazed up at his friend who was finally his lover. He reached up and took Clark’s mouth with his slow possession.

While they kissed, he pulled Clark slightly over the edge of the headboard, so Clark had to brace his hands on the headboard to keep his balance and his heels dug into the mattress. Then Bruce pulled out of the kiss and held his gaze, and kissed the tip of Clark’s impressive cock. A shuddery breath left his friend’s lips, and Bruce smiled against it, and then he dipped down and kissed him where he’d been kissing him before.

One of Clark's hands let go of the headboard and the fingers of that hand grasped into Bruce’s hair. Bruce met his keen eyed gaze and licked. He murmured against him teasingly, “Is this what you wanted?”

With no words, Clark nodded slowly.

With that silent affirmation, Bruce’s cock got even harder. He made him spread his legs wider, and he redoubled his efforts until he was voraciously giving Clark what he’d said he wanted him to do. He was fucking his friend with his tongue and it was intoxicating. Clark’s fingers tightened in his hair, his body writhed for him and sweet cries left his lips.

He straightened up, and held Clark’s gaze as he released his own erection. Clark breathed steadily in response. Then holding the length in his hand, Bruce played the head of his cock against his friend’s damp soft hole. He felt it quiver against the sensitive skin at the tip. 

At the bold move, his friend didn’t say no, but he didn’t say yes either. Feeling them skin to skin, Bruce was losing his grip on any discipline he’d ever had and groaned and grunted and watched as he rubbed his cock over it, over and over, leaking pre-come all over his friend, getting embarrassingly close to coming too soon.

Then breathily and earnestly, Clark spoke, “You really want to put that inside me, don’t you?”

There was no teasing in his words, and he raised his eyes and asked with a rumble, “But last night you confirmed you wouldn’t…”

With soulful eyes, his best friend said, “I’d do anything you want me to, Bruce.”

It was thrilling to hear that, but he didn’t want Clark to compromise; not when what he could give him was already so great. He leaned in and he kissed him again. He murmured, “Get on your knees, Baby, I won’t turn you down again.”

They moved at the same time, he clamoured to his feet on the mattress, and Clark slipped off the headboard to his knees. Bruce stepped around, and in the space between Clark and the end of the bed, Bruce sat down on cushioned headboard. 

Slowly, he panted for breath, his cock was standing to attention obscenely between the v of his open jeans. It was proof of how turned on he was, however he was too far gone to be embarrassed. He sat there as his best friend looked at it straight on. 

Clark murmured huskily, “I wasn’t wrong was I?”

At Clark’s sultry tone, he was reminded of last night in that ruined lab, and how he’d said he was willing to open his mouth for his nice big cock. He realised that with Clark’s growing arousal, he was also being freed of his usual restraint, closer to the tainted freedom of red K.

Bruce smiled smugly and teased, “No, you were right again.”

At his teasing tone, his friend flashed him a grin before he reached down and pumped his own turgid erection. Then his gaze returned Bruce’s erection, his brow creased as he studied it a long moment. It twitched under his scrutiny. Then Clark held his gaze and then he dipped down and started at the base and he licked slowly all the way to the very tip. Bruce hissed as his cock flexed trying not to lose the sensation of that tongue. 

Clark’s eyes glinted with amusement, and then he swirled his tongue around the glans, and then back to the tip, and came away with a thread of pre-come. They both groaned as Clark caught it with his tongue and licked it up. 

Bruce caught his head in his hands and bent down and kissed him. Clark moaned and licked into his mouth, and Bruce tasted himself. 

Then Bruce drew him back, and guided him back to his erection. Clark’s lust filled eyes met his gaze and he asked cheekily, “Did you want me to do something for you, Bruce?”

A part of him had always enjoyed to be teased by his best friend, another part had always wanted to grab him and guide his mouth down to his cock, but now they were here all he could respond with was, “Please.”

In response to that plea, Clark blinked slowly, and didn’t deny him, he leaned in and he covered the glans with his lips and he sucked him slowly. Those gorgeous eyes fluttered closed as he hummed around Bruce’s girth in obvious pleasure. 

Desire, primitive and pure, and feelings he didn’t want to name bubbled up inside him. He threaded his fingers through that black hair again, and Clark opened his eyes and looked up. Bruce stared down into that beloved face as Clark sucked him slowly and worshipped him and gave him such pleasure that he wanted it to last forever. He prayed reverently, “Clark.” over and over.

~Chapter 10~

Strong, gentle hands rolled his balls, as he sucked his cock. Bruce’s hips rose up instinctively and Clark took more of him into his moist hot mouth. As his cock went deeper, Clark’s saliva dribbled over his balls. He watched his cock fill his friend’s mouth over and over.

In overpowering pleasure, he flung his head back, and moaned, “Clark, I think you should get that lube now.”

Clark sucked his way off, and gazed at him with pleasure filled aquamarine eyes, and pinked flushed cheeks, his cock hard and oh so ready, but being the gentleman that was his best friend, he asked one more time, “Bruce, are you sure?”

He panted and asked incredulously, “You think we could let this go?”

His friend’s brow creased, “We could try if you wanted to.”

Bruce cupped his beautiful flushed face and asked, “Do you want to stop, Clark?”

Clark shook his head frantically, and whispered, “No.”

With adoration, Bruce smiled, “Then don’t stop.”

There was no more hesitation from his friend, his hands tugged his hips, pulling him to the edge of the headboard. Clark caught Bruce's waistband and he tugged Bruce’s jeans down and off. He tossed them away to land on the floor with Clark’s white shirt and jeans.

Then his friend turned his head and spied the lube where Bruce had dropped it on the mattress when he’d found it in Clark’s pocket earlier. He turned back with it in his hand and uncapped it. 

Clark lifted him off the headboard, and instead pressed his back against it. Bruce held onto his broad shoulders, needing that strength to hold on to. Keenly, Clark watched his reactions, as with slick fingers he played against Bruce’s entrance. 

Bruce groaned and urged softly, “Tease me.” 

He grunted softly as one teasing fingertip carefully slipped inside him. 

Then Clark slowly bowed his head and began sucking Bruce’s cock again and flailing his tongue against the glans. Bruce’s aroused body reacted to the stimulus and let Clark’s finger in deeper. Again, Clark hummed around his cock feeling him relaxing around his finger. Bruce cried softly, as his friend began thrusting his finger slowly inside him until he was taking it all. 

He played with his entrance until Bruce thought he was going crazy. 

Dazed and needy, he grasped Clark’s head, and guided Clark away from his hard throbbing length. Then he leaned in and he took Clark’s skilful mouth heatedly. 

Then Clark pressed two fingers inside him and opened him up more. Bruce gasped and moaned into Clark’s mouth. Clark echoed his moan, and licked into his mouth, and held him there as he thrust his fingers into him, over his prostate again and again.

Bruce rode those big fingers and whined as his thighs began to tremble. Having Clark Kent inside him became the only thing that mattered and he growled against his lips, “We’ve brought each other right to the line, now take me over it.”

Clark gazed into his eyes another long evaluating moment.

“Please.” 

It was one word but it spurred Clark to action, his super-strong arm went around Bruce's waist and his other hand caught his head and he kissed him fiercely. Hungry with need, he returned the passionate kiss. 

He whined into Clark’s mouth as he entered him, and opened him up with his cock. His lover swallowed the sound, and pressed deeper and deeper, until Bruce tore his mouth away and keened, “Oh shit, oh my god.”

Clark panted hot breath against his cheek, and he watched Bruce so closely, as he withdrew slowly and then carefully entered him again. 

His breath caught at the intense sensations, and his friend hushed, “It’s okay, Baby, it’s okay.”

At the cooing, Bruce chuckled hoarsely, “I know, god Clark, I know. But you’re big, you know.”

Laughing softly, his friend groaned, “You feel incredible inside; in a minute you’ll feel it too.”

“Oh I know.” he kissed him, and felt himself relax some more. He smiled against his plush lips, “It’s already happening.”

Clark pulled him away from the headboard slightly and his hand splayed against Bruce’s back supporting him, then he rolled his hips and Bruce moaned at the fullness that he felt and his fingertips dug into Clark’s impervious shoulders, “Oh yes.”

“Oh yes.” Clark echoed as Bruce’s body accepted him inside, and then he began thrusting into him, steady and with purpose.

Bruce laid his head back against the headboard and closed his eyes and revelled in finally sharing this with the man he…

He cried out as Clark thrust deeper and harder, and his eyes flew open and met his gaze. Clark growled quietly, “Don’t close your eyes, look at me.”

He remembered what Clark had said last night. He wanted to look him in the eye while he fucked him. 

Bruce smiled wildly with exhilaration. Then he shot his arm out and he grasped Clark’s throat. It wasn’t a serious threat to someone as powerful as his lover, but Clark smiled sharply with enthusiasm. Bruce used the invisible but wholly tangible power he had over his friend. As Bruce held his throat and pushed, Clark moaned and holding Bruce to him, he let himself fall backwards against the mattress. 

From his new position of straddling Clark, still holding his throat, Bruce grinned down with delight at his lover. He leaned over and he kissed him.

Sitting up again, he purposefully held his lover’s gaze and then he began moving on his cock. 

From the mattress, Clark gazed up at him, lust and devotion combined. His hands reached for Bruce’s body, and felt and caressed Bruce’s muscled physique. He cupped and massaged Bruce’s pectoral muscles, and teased his nipples with his thumbs. 

Bruce groaned but kept his eyes open, and watched his lover admire his body, undisguised, nothing hidden between them now. Clark moaned, and his hands caressed down Bruce’s lats, down to his waist and held on for a moment, and Bruce rode him a little quicker in response. 

His lover carried on down his hips, and whispered hoarsely, “Do you know how long I’ve wanted you, Bruce?”

He swallowed hard and replied, “Yes.”

“Really?”

Bruce nodded, “I think it’s as long as I’ve wanted you, Clark.”

Clark’s heavy eyelids blinked, and then he uttered, “Maybe.”

Then Clark’s hands stroked over Bruce’s shoulders, delicately tracing his muscles with his fingertips, down the line of his spine, down to the small of his back. Bruce’s eyelashes fluttered as he wanted to close his eyes at the feeling but tried not to. 

His lover sighed, “God, you’re beautiful.”

Bruce laughed softly, “That’s my line.”

Clark chuckled, “No it’s not, not right now.”

His lover’s hands caressed his ass cheeks, and then Clark changed position slightly, and then he began thrusting up to meet him, again and again. It was so intensely good taking and moving over Clark’s full length over and over that Bruce moaned lowly and his head lolled forward on his own chest. 

After long minutes of undiluted pleasure, and a trickle of sweat ran down his spine, he realised he’d closed his eyes, and he struggled to open them. When he did, opened mouthed and panting, he saw Clark was watching him with eyes full of emotion, lust and affection, awe and a touch of lustful possession. It thrilled him to see it there in the eyes of such a sweet man. 

Clark murmured lowly, “Come here.”

Bruce leaned forward, until their chests pressed together and their lips met. Then Clark held him close, and his thrusts got harder, and Bruce gasped and moaned into Clark’s mouth. Clark licked into his mouth, and Bruce desperately licked back, trying to kiss him, breathe and cry out all at the same time. 

He felt Clark try to pull away to give him chance to catch his breath but Bruce entwined his fingers in that black silky mess and held on, and wouldn’t let him stop.

He felt Clark cup his head, and he thought for a second that his friend was going to force him away, but instead, Clark breathed deeply through his nose, and he shared with Bruce his breath, just as he’d done floating above Gotham that day. The day their feelings had first been hinted at. He breathed deeply taking in that sweet hot breath and he devoured Clark’s lush kiss bruised mouth. 

His lover thrust inside him deep, and then suddenly Clark rolled them over. His arms hooked Bruce’s legs, spread his legs wider and then he took him faster. Bruce whinnied at the new intensity, his cock flexed and Clark tore his mouth away and stared down at him untamed and confident in his skill.

Bruce gazed up and hardly recognised his best friend. However, as Clark smiled down at him with passion in his eyes, Bruce recognised his new lover. 

His lover pushed up against the mattress, his hand wrapped around Bruce’s throat in a tender hold, and his other hand wrapped around Bruce’s throbbing length, and then he stroked it in time with his thrusts. 

Bruce’s body was strung with magnificent tension.

His gaze found where they were joined, seeing Clark’s glorious glistening cock thrusting into him and his own obscenely hard cock leaking within Clark’s fist. Then he gazed up into Clark Kent's fiercely loving eyes. Then it was over, his eyes rolled back in pleasure, and his cock jerked, and his lover’s cock got even deeper in that moment. He arched back on the bed and he came all over both of them.

Then his best friend was coming for him, Clark cried out his name, his hips jerking again and again, sharing the intensity of their orgasm. Panting hard, Bruce gazed up avidly watching his friend come for him. Clark's body quivered, he met Bruce’s gaze with dazzled eyes the colour of a tempestuous sea.

Quietly, Bruce ordered, “Come here.”

His lover slumped over him, sweat and come sticky between them. Exhaustedly, Clark’s lips met Bruce’s and they kissed sweetly between gusty panting breaths. Bruce wrapped his arms around him and held him. Panting gently, Clark kissed his cheek, and then bowed his head into the nook of Bruce’s neck. 

Then there was stillness.

~Chapter 11~

The light through the window had dimmed as the night drew in, but it was still light enough to see without switching the bedroom lamp on. He’d slipped away as Clark had dozed, and he had taken a much needed shower. When he came out the bathroom, running his fingers through his damp hair, Clark was still lying naked on the bed where he’d left him, but now his eyes were open and curiously, he watched him from the bed.

Bruce met his gaze momentarily, and then reached for his jeans from the floor and slipped them on, and fastened up. 

Silently, Clark continued to watch him. Bruce raised an eyebrow, and then left the bedroom.

A few minutes later, Clark left the bedroom with damp hair and he knew he’d showered too. He was wearing just his jeans also, and he came up behind Bruce and wrapped his arms around his naked torso. 

Bruce smirked, as Clark inquired, “What are you doing with that half eaten dinner?”

He moved the potatoes and grease around the skillet, and revealed, “Those potatoes were stone cold and no good as baked potatoes any-more so I’ve broken them up and I’m frying them in all that extra butter.”

“We have worked up an appetite.” Clark teased.

“You could say that.” he smirked, “We might get away with searing the steaks again, unless you think your heat-vision is sensitive enough to do it without desiccating them.”

“Oh I’m that good.” Clark whispered in his ear.

Bruce sniggered softly, “Yes, you are.”

His lover squeezed him tighter, and chuckled earthily, “But I think I might like you handling it for me.”

He pressed back, nestling his ass against Clark’s crotch teasingly, “Oh I know you do.”

Clark kissed his cheek, and said soberly, “Thank you.”

His brow creased, and asked over his shoulder, “For what?”

“For not pulling away.” Clark said earnestly. “For not making this a mistake.” 

Bruce turned in his friend’s arms, and met his gaze, and echoing what he’d said earlier, he told him, “I’m not struggling at the moment.”

“At the moment?” he inquired with a raised eyebrow.

He shrugged, “You know me better that anyone, Clark. We’ve gone much too far to turn back but…”

“But…?”

“But you know what comes after this might not be as easy as it was today.”

“Today was easy?” Clark asked with mock incredulousness.

Bruce harrumphed, “You know what I mean.”

His friend tilted his head, smiled softly and declared, “Whatever comes next, you’re worth it, Bruce.”

Bruce wasn’t too sure of that, but he liked that his friend thought so. He leaned forward, but Clark evaded him and said, “Your potatoes are burning.” 

He frowned and then he remembered, and he spun around and shook the frying crushed potatoes around a bit. Clark laughed, and then kissed his ear and backed away. When Bruce glanced back, he saw Clark was pouring himself some lemonade from the pitcher. He glanced back at the skillet, not wanting to be caught out again. When he looked behind him again, he saw Clark had sat himself on the dining table, with his bare feet on one of the chairs mirroring what Bruce himself had done at lunchtime. 

Undisguised, his best friend let his eyes linger on Bruce’s naked back and his denim clad ass, just as Bruce had done to him earlier. Bruce uttered, “Lord Clark, the look in your eyes.”

Clark chuckled, “I’m only looking at my lover; you were the naughty one ogling your friend’s ass.”

Bruce shook his head, and said, “After what we’ve done today, we can admit it now can’t we?”

“Admit what?”

“Admit that even though we only made love for the first time today, that we’ve been lovers for a long time.”

His lover nodded, and said sincerely, “I guess you’re right.”

Bruce smirked, and said dryly, “I usually am.”

Clark grinned brightly, “Not all the time, but I think you got it right today.”

The End


End file.
